


Sanctum Days

by Solvdrage



Category: RWBY
Genre: Competent Jaune, Darkos, Knightshade, Multi, Possible Explicit Sexual Content, Stealth Crossover, arkos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9096394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solvdrage/pseuds/Solvdrage
Summary: Jaune Arc believed he had it all figured out. A few embellished documents and a deal with a 'family friend' had gotten him into Mistral's Sanctum Academy. He was well on his way to achieving his dream, but anything built on a foundation of sand cannot stand. Expelled and cast adrift, Jaune Arc will build a foundation that will support a greater destiny than he could ever imagine.





	1. Chapter 1

Sanctum Academy was the premier primary combat school in the Kingdom of Mistral. Aspiring Huntsmen and Huntresses seeking the greatest challenge, the most heated forge, and the greatest achievement chose Sanctum. Mistral's most revered combat school was equal to Vale's Signal and the other combat schools in quality of instruction. The features that set Sanctum apart were the features that made some in the other Kingdoms look down on Mistral as a whole.

First, Mistral and Sanctum were very isolated. A culture had developed based on independence and self-reliance. Mistralians had a very powerful sense of individualism and were very loyal to their closest companions. They did not trust easily.

Second, the terrain and climate were both harsh. The entire continent was dominated by swamps. Mistral's cultural self-reliance was born in the difficulties of surviving in the Grimm infested nightmares surrounding the few pockets of civilizations.

Life, true life, had adapted to the harshness of the continent. Against all odds, life was thriving. This triumph was by no means gifted. Life in Mistral was _forged_.

Jaune, the sole son of the Arc lineage, had chosen to _attend_ Sanctum Academy for those very reasons. His family's heritage was one of heroism, service, and prowess. Unfortunately, there were complications that attempted to keep Jaune from embracing his heritage. He was an _Arc,_ however. It would take a great deal more than a disagreement to keep him from becoming a Huntsman. Jaune had studied every Primary Combat School on the planet. Signal, the most famous Combat School in his home country of Vale, had naturally been his first choice. The school was, however, too closely connected to his family.

Signal's name would be very fitting had Jaune's _unique_ manner of entry been discovered.

So, Jaune looked elsewhere. He looked further afield. Atlas's Secant Academy was simply not an option. Atlas was too rigid a society. They were far too thorough. Vacuo was a very solid choice, but it shared a continent with Vale. Jaune needed a place where he couldn't simply be dragged home by his family.

Mistral was far enough away and had a reputation for valuing privacy.

Considering Jaune Arc had, quite skillfully, forged his transfer documents, privacy was a very important factor in choosing his school.

"I still don't know what made me think _that_ was a good idea." Jaune's words seemed to echo in the hall despite being a whisper. They also referred to a good deal more than 'simply' committing fraud to enter Sanctum. His position balanced on a paper mache edge. Average was his ally. The last thing he could afford was to be put in the spotlight and under the microscope.

Unfortunately, Jaune's complete lack of a clue had led him straight into a an amazing risk within fifteen minutes of leaving Headmaster Erithros Stavros's office. The Forger had been so elated by his successful gambit that he had become hilariously lost. Jaune had stumbled through an empty hall and found a lone student occupying a bench.

For someone looking to avoid scrutiny, Jaune couldn't have made a worse choice.

For someone looking for a friend, Jaune couldn't have made a better one.

Her name was Pyrrha Nikos, and she was incredible. She was the warmest and friendliest person Jaune had ever met. Pyrrha had not judged or belittled Jaune. Even Jaune's carefully cultivated paranoia and worry about being discovered melted away in the face of such genuine good will.

Unfortunately, Pyrrha was also Remnant's fastest rising star. Jaune's entire gambit relied on avoiding any form of scrutiny. Friendship with the two-time reigning Mistral Regional Champion was practically sending out hand-written invitations to the press to dig into Jaune's past.

The odds he would be discovered were rising daily. So in roughly a complete year of stupid risks, Jaune Arc figured what harm could one more stupid risk do?

"Hello again!" Pyrrha greeted her only true companion without restraint.

"Hello again," Jaune repeated with a slight smile. "I heard you were back early. Had to scramble to smuggle this in."

Pyrrha looked at the 'bouquet' Jaune had produced from behind his back. Her ponytail swished back and forth as she shook her head in mirth. "I _am_ on a training regimen, Jaune."

"It'll be our secret. I promise I'll only leak this scandalous life choice to MBN for two signed mint-condition copies of 'X-ray and Vav' Issue Number One. You would get the second copy as my apology for selling you out to the press." Jaune waggled the 'bouquet' invitingly.

"Jaune Arc!" Pyrrha somehow managed to make her exclamation in a totally flat voice, before smiling radiantly. "For a signed Issue Number One, I wouldn't even be mad."

She plucked a strand of cotton candy from Jaune's bouquet. Her confidant chuckled. "Not even a little bit?"

"With you? Never," Pyrrha confessed after taking another bit of cotton candy. "Jaune...What's wrong? I haven't seen you this lost since the first day we met..."

 _'Now's as good a time as ever,'_ the somewhat fraudulent Arc decided. He took a moment to truly take in the appearance of his closest friend. She truly was beautiful. Pyrrha's vibrant red hair and vivid green eyes were made all the more striking by the simple black jacket and matching houndstooth skirt that served as Sanctum's female uniform. Unfortunately, Jaune's image of his confidante made the dreaded 'just friends' wall practically visible.

"Are you sure about that? Never?" Jaune looked down. The slightest pressure of Pyrrha's hand on his shoulder bolstered his flagging courage. "I'm a fraud, Pyrrha. Half my admissions documents are forged."

"Forged?" Pyrrha was shocked, and that emotion resonated through the pressure on Jaune's shoulder.

"My 'sponsor' here in Mistral? He isn't a relative. He's barely a family friend. Mom hasn't even talked to him since Elementary School. A few hundred lien and he signed off on every document I sent him. All those character recommendations? Might as well have been Grimm Scratch." Jaune spat his revelation out hot and venomous. The words hung in the air around Jaune like a foul miasma.

"A sheet of paper doesn't determine your character," Pyrrha said quietly. "Everything you've done _here_ with _me_ has shown your character. Jaune...you are a great person and I want you...to know...that your friendship means more to me than either of my championships."

The Arc shook his head. "I'm breaking the law by being here."

"For _what?_ How is wanting to improve yourself so that you can continue your family's legacy of service to Remnant wrong? The _how_ of your entry doesn't matter as much as the _why!"_

Of all the reactions, this was the one Jaune was least prepared for. Pyrrha had, probably, never raised her voice once in her life. Here she was, clearly upset, and letting Jaune Arc have a piece of her mind. The somewhat quirky arena champion had either already forgotten about his criminal confession, or had chosen to ignore the implications. Her anger was directed at Jaune's inferiority complex. Pyrrha had hoped she had, in some ways quite literally, beaten the complex out of her _companion_.

It seemed she hadn't fully accomplished her objective. Determination was a virtue that Pyrrha acknowledged in herself. The Champion would not let that virtue fail her now. She slipped the hand on Jaune's shoulder down around his waist. Her free arm quickly wrapped Jaune up as well.

"I won't betray your confidence. This will stay between us," Pyrrha promised.

"Thank you, Pyrrha..." Jaune managed to force out.

"Jaune, you are my only friend. I won't give up on you," the blossoming legend admitted forlornly.

Once again, Pyrrha caught him off guard. "What are you talking about? Everyone admires, respects, and likes you! Hell! It's _impossible_ not to do any of those things!"

"They admire, respect, and like the champion. After the last tournament, everyone offered the usual congratulations and platitudes. They asked me what it was like to be the center of attention for most of the world. They talked about how I was all over the CCTS news. Do you remember what you asked me?"

The Arc gulped slightly as Pyrrha pulled him into a tighter, decidedly not 'just friends', hug. "I-I asked if you had fun. If you had a moment to actually enjoy yourself."

"You asked _me,_ not the Tournament Champion who just had a meeting about being on the box of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flakes."

"Wait!" Jaune interrupted. _"That_ was the meeting? The last people they put on the box was X-Ray and Vav."

Pyrrha laughed, throaty and invitingly. "Only you would turn a confession like that into something geeky."

"Hey, it got you to laugh. That's a win in my book."

Jaune had always been aware of Pyrrha's 'presence'. She projected so many emotions, faces...masks that nearly everyone who met her had drawn on her...projecting their own beliefs onto Pyrrha. There were no projections here. No wishful thinking on Jaune's part. No conforming to the image forced upon her on Pyrrha's part.

They had never told each other the truth so completely before. It should be impossible to say so much with no words. Pyrrha and Jaune experienced a magnetism. Jaune could feel the blood rushing through his veins at a thousand miles per hour. Pyrrha's experience was similar in intensity, but altered. The roar of Mistral's Coliseum was the whisper of a summer breeze next to the pounding of her heart.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

"Miss Nikos!" A familiar voice called out from nearby.

Jaune's forehead met Pyrrha's gently. "If we ignore her, she might go away..."

"That sounds grand," Pyrrha whispered back.

Kastana Myti rounded the corner. Pyrrha's publicist was a friendly person in all honesty. Jaune and Pyrrha tolerated her better than most of the hangers-on brought about by Pyrrha's celebrity. That tolerate-bordering-on like did not save her from a pair of annoyed teenage glares when she interrupted the moment that was transpiring. The publicist gasped in shock as she took in the scene in front of her.

This was completely unexpected!

"F-Forgive me, Miss Nikos...I was hoping you could approve the statement r-regarding the Pumpkin Pete deal..."

Kastana had the good sense to look sheepishly away as the two teens extremely, excruciatingly slowly...separated themselves. Pyrrha looked every bit of the moody teenager she truly was at that moment. Kastana presented her scroll to the young celebrity.

Pyrrha punctuated her read-through of the statement with a huff. "It's _fine."_

Jaune didn't speak 'Womanese', but he could definitely tell Pyrrha was not in the best mood. He couldn't blame her. Jaune had seen the Mountain Top. It had been _right_ _there._

"Let's go, Jaune. We have afternoon sparing classes," Pyrrha declared. Her strong, athletic arms snaked around Jaune's own. He wasn't going to complain. Heck, in that moment, he wouldn't be hugely upset if she dragged him home.

He did feel incredibly bad for whoever drew Pyrrha's number. The champion had a look in her eyes that promised pain and retribution. Jaune had the feeling it would be safest for everyone involved if he was Pyrrha's sparring partner today.

_'Way to take one for the 'team', Jaune...'_

* * *

Jaune grimaced as the students filled in to the sparring rooms. He was used to getting _looks_. There were a lot of people who weren't thrilled with his closeness to the biggest celebrity in all of Mistral. Jaune Arc had been terrified at first by the attention. Any notion of pushing Pyrrha away to protect his secrets had died in the face of Pyrrha's magnetism and warmth. Jaune had never had any truly close friends or even a legitimate support system. His father had been left embittered after his crippling at the vicious claws and barbed tail of the Alpha Griffon years ago. Nichol had never been cruel or neglectful towards Jaune, but he did not support Jaune taking up Crocea Mors. His mother, Halaya, had been just as adamant in keeping Jaune from the Hunter's Path.

They had acquiesced when Jaune had presented his acceptance letter to Sanctum and a falsified official sponsorship letter from Mistral.

The Arcs were torn between feeling proud for their son and terrified. Still, they had gifted Crocea Mors and their blessing to the only Arc son. It was one of his most positive and endearing memories. The weight of his family's ancestral sword and shield in his hands was welcome.

"Today we will be _grading_ and critiquing your performances," a upperclassman Jaune didn't recognize announced. "Professor Elia has just announced she is on maternity leave."

Jaune smiled at the news and several of the girls began chattering happily. Professor Elia was extremely popular. Everyone was legitimately happy for the younger teacher. They were also glad for a bit break when it came to grading! Elia's grading was tough, but she had the best interest of the students at heart.

To put it bluntly, some of the students in the Primary Combat Schools weren't cut out to be Huntsmen or Huntresses. They were learning skills to make them exceptional law enforcement or military officers. Graduates of Sanctum who did not advance to Haven, Shade, or Beacon would not serve humanity and Faunus-kind as Hunters. Those graduates generally lacked the aura levels to survive long-term deployment into the borderlands where Grimm outnumbered people hundreds to one.

Fortunately for Jaune Arc, he had a lot of Aura. His Aura reserves were another kink in his perilous effort to stay out of the spotlight. As the upperclassman droned on about the situation with Professor Elia, Jaune indulged in a nervous tic. The fraudulent knight spun his blade in his hands.

"Eager to get it on, Jaune?" Blass, one of the other students and an immigrant from Atlas, asked with a snicker.

Unfortunately, Blass could be described with a vulgar term that rhymed with his name. "You could say that."

Jaune's response was as noncommittal as humanely possible. The Arc really had no desire to carry on the conversation with Blass. The other boy was almost dead-center of Sanctum's performance. In fact, Jaune and Blass routinely swapped that position.

"Your partners will be displayed on the board. Remember, stay on the mat. The match is over once your Aura falls into the red or you are removed from the mat."

Jaune barely registered the instructions. They were the truncated version of Professor Elia's usual directions. Blass snorted as he noticed that he had been selected as Jaune's opponent. Jaune was paying more attention to Pyrrha's draw. Poor Blednee wasn't a bad kid, but she had the worst luck. Jaune knew Pyrrha would be exceptionally gracious, helpful, and full of sportsmanship. The Champion was just too intrinsically nice. It was just...Jaune couldn't see her pulling as much off her blows today.

"Are you ready Jaune? Or are you not done with your art appreciation?" Blass joked.

It was in that moment, that Jaune decided he wasn't going to pull as much off his blows either. Pyrrha had confided a great deal in Jaune during their friendship. The one truth that had struck Jaune was that Pyrrha feared the world losing sight that she was an actual person. Mistral, and now most of Remnant, only saw the Champion or 'The Invincible Girl'. Pyrrha was getting swept away in the torrent of her own success. Blass's comment was an obvious, if somewhat twisted and crass, compliment on Pyrrha's (and Blednee's) beauty. It also reinforced Pyrrha's fears. For Blass saw her as an object...a conquest. That caused a tide of boiling anger to bubble through Jaune's blood as he pictured Pyrrha's reaction if she ever found out.

 _'_ If _she ever finds out,'_ Jaune thought and was surprised by the dark steel at its core.

Another upperclassman approached Jaune and Blass. "Prepare for the spar," the instructions were blunted by sheer boredom. The two younger students would wager that this sod had been 'voluntold' to assist while Professor Elia was out.

Blass bowed half-heartedly and extended his weapon. Jaune really didn't care what the arrogant new-money jerk called it. It was a giant dual-pronged pitchfork with a built-in, long-range shock prod. The Arc smiled as he readied Crocea Mors. He had a plan now.

"Begin!" the upperclassman shouted. The two boys circled each other. Blass flourished his weapon proudly. He shouted a generic taunt that flaunted his wealth. Jaune was not focused on empty words. Instead, he recalled a bit of history recovered form some of the earliest archeological finds in Remnant. Humanity had been exceedingly desperate in the ancient days of history. Men and Faunus alike had been forced to weaponize anything and everything to survive against the Creatures of Grimm. That included farming tools such as the pitchfork.

Blass could say all he wanted about his family's so-called nobility. "Hey, Blass...I wonder what your great-great-great times three granddad would say about you stealing his pitchfork. I'm sure he needs that to meet his potato quota for his lord."

The taunt hit its mark. Blass's gloating smirk vanished faster than if Jaune had actually struck a physical blow. Angered by the swipe at his family's lineage, the Atlesian abandoned all thought of strategy. A military fork was designed for thrusting. The prongs were not quite as effective as a true spear tip, but their function was the same.

Swinging it like a chair in a barroom brawl was _not_ an effective use of the weapon.

Jaune charged forward to counter. His shield absorbed and deflected the wild swing. The taunt had really pushed Blass's buttons. The swing had been beyond angry. It had gone full speed into tortuously stupid. Not only was the Military Fork no longer able to be used effectively as it struggled against Jaune's shield, Blass was so off balance he couldn't even kick.

The Arc's thoughts weren't about setting up Blass to royally flunk this assessment. The thoughts weren't fear regarding his fraud being discovered. They weren't even about winning another match, even if it was a simple practice spar.

 _'I can't wait to tell Pyrrha,'_ Jaune thought as he brought the pommel of his sword down in a hammer blow. Once again, Jaune's rival had doomed himself with his poor emotional control. Blass's momentum hadn't been halted by Jaune's block. He kept falling forward...just enough for the strike to land true.

On his nose.

With the most sickening crunch Jaune had ever heard.

Even with Blass's Aura, the impact broke his nose. The Atlesian dropped his weapon in shock. Both of his hands went to his shattered and bloody nose. Luckily his Aura had begun healing the wound. Unluckily, Jaune had dropped into a cat-like crouch in order to deliver a sweep at Blass's ankles.

"Match!" The upperclassman cried out.

Jaune smiled in relief and offered his hand to his downed opponent. Blass looked up with rage filled eyes. He spat out a glob of warm blood. A string of anatomically impossible sexual suggestions followed. Jaune was actually amused. Some of the insults were _inspired._

Blass was just to angry to keep his ire directed at Jaune alone. He just had to take a swipe at Pyrrha. "Just go run to that manly ape you cling to."

Jaune wasn't exactly sure just how quickly he swung at Blass, but he knew he got at least two blows in before the Upperclassman pulled him away.

It felt good breaking Blass's nose again.

* * *

Jaune stood at attention outside of Erithros Stavros's office. He flicked is gaze to the nearby bench and sighed. "I appreciate the support, Pyrrha...but I'll be fine."

The redhead grinned a fraction. "Jaune, we're the closest thing to partners a primary combat school has. I'm staying with you."

"Fine. It's not like I would stop you even if I had a way to try," the Arc Knight chuckled. The wording was awkward, but the anger and adrenaline had not completely bled out of his system.

Pyrrha started to launch a playful reply. Her attempt was cut off by the door opening of the door. The Headmaster motioned for Jaune to follow him into the office. Pyrrha mouthed 'I am with you' in lieu of a hollow good luck. Headmaster Stravros motioned harshly to a seat.

"Thank you, sir," Jaune said with military precision.

Erithros shook his head. "Mr. Arc, if you wanted to thank me, I would have hoped you wouldn't have struck Blass Bauer. Chalkos Aspida has given his report already. You were obviously provoked by Mr. Bauer's extremely vulgar rant and by his spitting on you. That being said, I cannot allow such conduct to pass without consequence. Mr. Arc, you are confined to campus for one week and will attend the Remedial and Detention class tomorrow night."

"I understand, sir," Jaune did not protest. He accepted the rather lenient punishment. Confinement on campus was not a huge tragedy. He only left campus a few times to go supply shopping or visit his sponsor. _'Visit my sponsor. That's rich.'_

Erithros wore the smile of someone who wasn't sure how to react to the situation. "Mr. Arc, I am impressed by your maturity in this matter."

"I can't lose my cool in the field. Grimm can tell. That kind of anger would practically be ringing the dinner bell. I'd be putting my team in danger. This life...it isn't just about me. I wanted to become a hero when I applied to Sanctum. That isn't what I want to be any more. Trying to be a hero and doing things solo will only end with a well-fed Grimm. Huntsmen and Huntresses work together, because if they don't...well, that's the nightmare scenario isn't it? I think...I want to keep the nightmares at bay."

Erithros shook his head. "Mr. Arc, I've never had a student unintentionally guilt-trip me about punishing them. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," Jaune mimicked Pyrrha's tone and temperament as he addressed Sanctum's headmaster. He shook the Headmaster's hand and departed. Jaune found himself simultaneously shocked and unsurprised that Pyrrha had waited for him. "You didn't have to wait for me, Pyrrha. I'm not complaining and I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. What did Headmaster Stavros decide?" Pyrrha asked as she fell in beside Jaune.

"Confined to campus for a week and I have Detention and Remedial class tomorrow night," Jaune laid the details bare.

Pyrrha ran a finger across her bronze, ornate circlet. She nearly jumped when she heard Jaune repeat her name. "Yes, Jaune?"

"You hummed there," Jaune pointed out. "That means you were thinking about something."

The Invincible Girl blushed. She had never given up a 'tell' to anyone before. _'I suppose that shows just how comfortable and real Jaune makes me feel...'_

"I am surprised by how lenient the punishment was," the fiery-tressed young woman admitted.

Jaune chuckled. "Well, the headmaster did accuse me of unintentionally trying to guilt trip him about punishing me."

Pyrrha gave Jaune an amused and questioning look. The Arc struggled to avoid the incredibly awkward flustered swallow. _'Does she realize how hot she is?'_

"He...uh...agreed with my reasoning for being a huntsman."

"The new reason, about keeping nightmares away?" Pyrrha queried. Pleased with Jaune's nod in response, she punched him in the shoulder. "I guess you really are a dreamer, Jaune Arc."

* * *

The detention class was incredibly boring. Jaune was prohibited from any sort of weapons practice or maintenance while serving out his sentence. The first fifteen minutes was spent writing out a 'Behavioral Reflection'. His reflection was completely honest, but Jaune wasn't exactly hiding his negative opinion on Blass's comment about Pyrrha. The 'behavioral reflection' period mercifully ended as Jaune put the finishing touches on his 'Blame Blass' conclusion.

"Now," the bored teacher's aide drawled. "As this is a punishment, you will have to research and write a strategy to defend or redirect a pack of Beowolves away from a village."

Jaune leaned back in his chair and chewed over the scenario. "Are there specifics on the village?"

"It's on the sheet," the aide grumbled. The incredibly bored young man simply passed the sheet to the six students present. Jaune cast a glance around the room. He would be the only person taking this seriously. It was a feeling that cut deeply into his bones. This was a real chance to advance his march towards being a true huntsman.

Jaune actually lost track of time. Naturally, he'd rather be spending time with his buddies Asimi, Kassíteros, or Pyrrha. _Especially_ Pyrrha. This exercise was not a complete waste of time nor unenjoyable.

"You're actually having fun, aren't you?" A girl Jaune didn't recognize snorted. The Arc flashed a glance in the bluenette's direction. She had barely made anything resembling progress.

Jaune's flat look was returned with a glare. "Isn't this why we're here?"

"Wait," Bakar interjected. The only person Jaune recognized leaned forward. "You're telling me...that you actually _want_ to go to a Huntsmen Academy? I thought you were like us. Everyone knows that Arcs have always been Huntsmen. Jaune, you're so painfully average that we all thought you were forced to be here out of some bullshit family tradition."

The nods from some of the other students caught Jaune off guard. He stared in shock at the motley collection. _'Don't know why I am acting shocked. These guys are in detention. From the feel of the room, some of them have been here more than once...'_

"I'm not here because of _some bullshit family tradition._ I choose to be here. I want to be a Huntsman. I made the choice when I was a kid that I'd be the person fighting Grimm out in the boondocks so that my sisters and everyone else would hopefully never see one of those things up close."

"That's...actually a pretty good reason to be here," a voice in the back called out. Jaune was glad to have someone agree with him. His anger hadn't subsided and he angrily finished his plans. The aide running detention could tell things were getting tense and checked the clock on his scroll. The wave of relief radiating from the man would have driven off an Ursa.

"Please hand in your remedial assignment and you may leave," the TA sputtered. Everyone else turned their 'work' in quickly and bolted. Jaune took his time. He really didn't want to deal with the mass of delinquents. The TA accepted his work and Jaune was never so glad to leave a room. Jaune may have not looked back, but his passing was not unnoticed.

The TA slouched in his chair. He had a bad feeling that the room might have exploded during the confrontation. _Ring!_ The sound nearly caused the TA to jolt out of his chair. He fumbled for his scroll.

Once again, he nearly dropped it.

"G-Good evening, Headmaster!"

The headmaster smiled over the visual feed. "Good evening, son. I thank you for volunteering for the remedial class tonight. There is a particular student I would like a report on."

"Of course," The assistant looks at each of the reports. "Which student?"

"Jaune Arc," Starvos casually mentioned.

"Well, he was the only student who took the assignment seriously. There was some...tension. Students attributed his presence at the school to 'some bullshit family tradition'. Bakar was the offender in that statement. I was _just_ noting that in my report."

Erithros's image leaned back in whatever chair he was sitting in back home. "Would you kindly send me Jaune's work? Immediately."

The work was transmitted and the line cut after some platitude-filled small talk. Erithros was completely caught off guard by the opening paragraph. Jaune Arc's status as Sanctum's near mathematical median in standard academics and combat was evidently Remnant's method of making up for _this._

"This...wasn't expected, Mr. Arc..."

* * *

The throbbing bass of the bar's music had a strangely cathartic effect on Kastana's headache. The past two days had been challenging to say the least. Her client, Remnant's fastest rising star, was being incredibly moody. Kastana had no reason to fear for her job. Pyrrha was too honest to give anything other than the complete truth. That didn't mean the Invincible Girl wasn't holding a slight grudge. Kastana couldn't exactly lay any blame at the young celebrity's feet.

 _'I did wreck her chance for her first kiss,'_ the publicist admitted. If the moment of _her_ first kiss had been ruined like that, Kastana probably would have decked the offender. Fortunately, Pyrrha was just too nice...outside of the arenas...to do such a thing.

A shake of the head cleared all those thoughts as she caught sight of Prasinos approaching. Her boyfriend smiled broadly as Kastana practically jumped off of her bar stool. The couple embraced warmly.

"You look...besides gorgeous...like you need a strong drink," Prasinos teased.

Kastana leaned in to her significant other. "I may have gotten Pyrrha a bit mad at me."

"Can the 'Invincible Girl' even get mad? Every time I've seen her, she's easily the most calm and collected person on Remnant."

The publicist snorted. "She's still a teenage girl. I...may have ruined a moment with a boy."

"There's a guy at Sanctum with enough Dust in his veins to try to get with Remnant's biggest arena star?" Prasinos whistled.

"His name is Jaune Arc, yes, that Arc family. The kid doesn't fit the image of what you'd expect from one of the Vytal signatories. I've never seen someone so _average._ In fact, every time I've talked to him I've found him really boring. Pyrrha seems attached to him." Kastana finished as she motioned for the barkeeper.

"Why is she settling for boring? I thought there were rumors of her and that one guy...that young actor or something."

The publicist actually laughed. _"Him?_ Please! That punk was just inflating his ego after meeting Pyrrha at that charity party a while back. Pyrrha's too polite for her own good. He's the reason for the 'No Acting, Ever' statement I put out two months ago. If anything, he's responsible for pushing her to being a Huntress."

"That bad of a first impression then?" Prasinos laughed alongside his girlfriend. "He single-handedly drove her into a life of fighting monsters in the wilderness. Poor schmuck!"

Kastana shook her head. "I'll say this for the Arc kid, he doesn't treat her like a celebrity. Jaune's fairly grounded, but..."

"But what? Boring isn't it?"

The attractive public relations expert chewed on her lip. "I get the feeling Jaune is...not exactly _forthcoming_ in certain areas. There's something slightly shady about him, despite being a pretty open guy emotionally."

"Maybe that's something that draws Pyrrha in? She can read this guy, but the mystery is appealing?"

"Well, Mister...I think I've found out why I tolerate you so well...You _get it_ ," Kastana crowed. "I also think you'll get it."

Prasinos donned a goofy grin that was only acceptable on a man completely in love and on the verge of getting laid. "I was going to wait until later, but..."

The Invincible Girl's media handler took on an incredibly eager look. Kastana was silently begging her lover to continue. "I managed to snag my cousin's villa on the Inner Sea for the week of the 22nd. Just the two of us...The most exclusive beaches in all of Mistral."

"The 22nd would give me plenty of head's up to ask off! We _have_ to go!"

Prasinos smiled broadly. "I'll call him and confirm."

"Go! I'll fire off an e-mail to Mrs. Nikos!"

Prasinos slipped away. Confident in his relative isolation, he pulled out his scroll and set it to 'call' mode. The welcome sound of his half-sister answering brought a smile to his face.

"This better be good," the 'cousin' grumbled. "I made it clear that I don't want to hear from you until we have to fake liking each other at my wedding."

"I have an olive branch, sis," Prasinos quipped. "This will make faking it so much easier."

A decidedly unladylike snort cut across the line. "What could you possibly offer me that would make me forget about all your bullshit?"

"Pyrrha Nikos has a boyfriend."

The dead silence on the line was music to Prasinos's ears. Eventually, a single word broke the silence. "Seriously?"

"Even got a name." Prasinos looked around cautiously.

"If this pans out, I think I'll count this as an olive branch. Hit me with the name."

Prasinos pumped his free fist. "Kid's name is Jaune Arc. Related to the Vytal Accord signer. Supposedly, a hilariously average student. Two things that'll get you out of covering weathermen. First, Pyrrha adores the guy; first kiss adore. Second, he's hiding _something_. Not sure what."

"Holy shit, this could be huge. I know you're dating Pyrrha's publicist. Would she be willing to talk?" The tabloid reported questioned eagerly.

"Look, I love Kastana like you love Broúntzos. She has a great gig going, I'm already taking a huge risk here. Please, don't even mention you got it from anyone even close to her. In fact...piss her off like you usually do," Prasinos pleaded.

The paparazzi chuckled. "I'm sure there are people who will talk, even if they embellish a bit. The toilet paper I work for isn't exactly MBN."

"Sis, I actually hope this helps us out. Ma hates it when we fight," Prasinos pleaded.

"It just might." A soft click signaled the end of a bitter familial rift...and the end of Jaune's halcyon days.


	2. Chapter 2

Kids, Zelena Baraj realized, were complete idiots. She wasn't complaining about their idiocy as it was currently making her job so much easier. The paparazzi reporter was currently enjoying a steaming helping of cup noodles while praying she was never this vapid at age fifteen. There were no posts on social issues, dealing with Grimm attacks, or really anything beyond stupid superficial crap. Zelena may make her living off the superficial and the vapid, but she honestly hated how shallow the world was.

Grimm wipe out a nomadic tribe of hundreds? Who cares? Cepegpo Ekran cheated on yet another up-and-coming singer-songwriter!

The foolishness of humans and Faunus alike were putting food on her table, lien in her bank account, and had introduced her to the love of her life. If the world was going to reward her for exploiting people's selfishness, then Zelena was going to milk it for every cent.

"Bingo!" Zelena shouted as she finally found a potential search result hit. The paparazzo grinned as she looked over the a series of posts from the last week. "Jaune Arc, you have a knack for pissing all sorts of people off. Thank you for making this so easy."

She jotted down several names. The one at the top of her list was Blass Bauer. He seemed to be your standard new money type. Zelena would wager her last two cups of chicken flavored cup noodles, but not her spicy noodles, that Blass would sell out this Jaune kid for free.

Time to test that theory. "You don't seem to be a fan of Mr. Arc." Zelena typed out a private message.

"Now to see if I can rope this idiot in," Zelena groused as she got up from her computer. "This lead better be worth it."

* * *

Jaune Arc hated his 'sponsor'. Albastru Caioe was a completely unscrupulous gambling addict, boozer, and general malcontent. He was also incredibly subtle with his vices and blended magnificently into polite society. Worse, Albastru had underworld connections that Jaune had needed at the time. Mr. Caioe, Mistral's largest bookie and underground gambling magnate, now had Jaune Arc by the balls. Jaune made the mistake of trying to back out once he had gotten in to Sanctum. Three days later, Albastru had called Jaune asking him to have lunch 'to celebrate his birthday'. Jaune couldn't say no. The man did hold the key to Jaune's pursuit of being a huntsman in his shady hands.

Jaune had nearly vomited at the sight of a signed witness statement from the Kingdom of Mistral's Ministry of Criminal Justice.

The Arc boy could still hear Albastru's rich tenor voice and the smirk behind it. "My dear, dear 'nephew'. Do you know how easily I could have this statement in front of a judge...and your upstanding and noble Headmaster Stravro? Go ahead, read it over."

The statement, in flowing legal terms and various deal-making statements, boiled down to a singular fact. Jaune Arc was fucked and Albastru Caioe owned him.

As Caioe sat across from Jaune in the small coffee shop, Jaune really wanted to punch him. The bookie knew it and was all too happy to go out of his way to antagonize the idealistic fool.

"Mr. Arc," Albastru started. "How are your studies? I hope the detention gave you time to reflect on that temper of yours."

"I don't regret breaking his nose, at all." Jaune crossed his arms.

Caioe laughed. "I wouldn't expect you to! Oum and the Shattered Moon! You have moxie boy! Even at a disadvantage, with me for example, you're plotting and planning ways to 'do the most good'. Bring me to justice...that hurts me. It really does. After all, _I_ in my _extreme generosity_ are why you have become such a well known potential Huntsman!"

 _'Wait? Well known?'_ Jaune's thoughts must have been clear as day as the criminal laughed in a lilting fashion.

"Oh? You haven't paid any attention to the prattling of your peers on those ridiculous social media platforms? The dalliances between you and the Invincible Girl are quite common fodder for conversation! That and your temper. Your good friends Blass and Bakar are quite cross with you. Idealism and anger...that is the stuff of revolutions, child."

"Well...shit..."

Albastru sighed as he sipped upon his expensive espresso. "Now, how are you going to keep me from making my mid-level prosecutor friend so very happy? I'm sure he would give you an exceptionally light sentence in thanks for helping with his considerable gambling debts..."

"There is a mid-level tournament next month. Pyrrha isn't fighting because her cousin is getting married. She's going to be a bridesmaid," Jaune explained. _"_ Chrysópsaro Gavátha is taking her place. He's not a bad fighter. Long range specialist. Uses a trident/rotary crossbow as his primary weapon."

"Have you fought him?" Albastru asked.

Jaune shook his head. "He's a Haven student. Pyrrha beat him two tournaments ago. She says he's talented and fights to provide his...well...his _wife_ with some support."

"Wife you say..." the gangster rubbed his chin.

"If you threaten his wife, I'll turn myself in," Jaune stated. Albastru glared at Jaune for his defiance. The Arc became positively smug as he produced his Scroll. "I have to thank you, Mr. Caioe. You taught me an absolutely essential lesson. Leverage is a beautiful thing."

A violent outburst had been the expected result of Jaune's gamble. He had never expected a look of pride to appear on Albastru's face. It was the closest anyone had ever come to matching Pyrrha's look of support for Jaune.

"Fuck you and fuck your morals," Albastru mock-whined. "Do you not realize how much _money_ someone as fucking clever as you could make? I've seen your scores in all those ghastly tactics courses you insist on taking. They are very good. If you weren't so horribly average everywhere else, your social status would be very bankable. Think of what you could do in my organization!"

"I'm here because you have me by the balls," Jaune stated simply. He reached under the table and grabbed his school bag. He slid a very cheap notebook. "Here's what I've dug up on the Sanctum participants. Are we done now?"

The bookie wagged a gaudily ringed finger. "Mr. Arc, I _must_ inspect this information. If it isn't up to par, I'm afraid we will have to meet again later in the week. I don't want to do that, as your 'personal nobility' blinds you to the potential for profit you are infuriatingly indifferent to. You don't want to do that, because that would mean less time with Ms. Nikos."

There was a pause as the notebook came under incredible scrutiny. "We are done...after a simple question."

"How I got this good looking?" Jaune scoffed.

"Mmm...I do wonder that sometimes," Albastru confessed. "But why these mundane notebooks? Why write at all? We have Scrolls. This isn't the Wilds and we are not savages."

"Simple, 'Uncle'," Jaune smirked. "No one can hack processed wood pulp yet."

Albastru motioned for Jaune's dismissal. The student didn't have to be told twice. He was out the door before Albastru had time to add another snide comment.

* * *

Blass was a bit nervous. He had been communicating with someone online about dealing with 'the Arc Issue'. Now, he had finally agreed to meet with the person in public. This 'Zelena' claimed to work for a 'Celebrity News' magazine. He wasn't sure why a magazine cared about Jaune Arc, but Blass figured it had something to do with Pyrrha.

"Mr. Bauer," a woman's voice greeted the young man. "I'm Zelena. It's nice to meet you face to face."

"Very nice," Blass agreed cautiously.

The reporter rolled her yes. "Look, I'm not a trick by this Jaune Arc guy or anyone connected to Pyrrha Nikos. I'm just someone doing her job."

"I still don't get why Jaune Arc is the angle you're working. He's a nobody. _Pyrrha_ is the famous one," Blass grumbled.

"Exactly," Zelena shockingly agreed. "There's no story in pursuing Pyrrha. What's there to say? 'Pyrrha Nikos is a beautiful, polite, and highly talented young woman hiding absolutely no dirty laundry.' That's _boring,_ kid. Now, what if there is something on this Jaune Arc guy? He's got a temper if your posts are anything to go by...What if there is more?"

"What do you mean...more?" The Atleasian was suddenly very curious.

Zelena smirked. _Got him._ "I've done a bit of digging on my own. He shows up a quarter of the way through last year's first semester. There's no records I can find of his parents contacting the school other than a signature on his entry paper. Jaune's parents are very involved in their other kid's schooling. Very...annoyingly...involved. Strike you as odd?"

"Very," Blass agreed. "Something seems very off about all this."

"Exactly and Pyrrha is _very_ attached to this Jaune guy. Which Pyrrha Nikos story is going to drive more Scroll traffic and sell more rags? The brand of skirt she wore to her meeting with the Pumpkin Pete's execs...or the boy she's into being shady as hell?"

"The second..." Blass admitted. "What do you need me to do?"

"Now we're talking. First, I know you won't do anything I ask _just_ for the satisfaction of bringing Mr. Arc down a peg. I can pay you five hundred lien for the _one job_ you have to do right now."

"I'm listening," Blass prompted.

The reporter produced an incredibly tiny thumb drive. "I need you to put this into a workstation somewhere in Sanctum's network. All it does is give me a backdoor into the records department."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Blass agreed. The two worked out further details. Zelena watched the student waltz off. She cursed 'new money types' under her breath and was about to leave.

"Excuse me, miss," an unnaturally silky voice seemingly constricted around Zelena. It was threatening, civil, seductive, and repulsive all at once. The words triggered the 'prey reaction' in a very primitive part of the reporter's mind.

"Yes?" Zelena kept her cool as best as possible. Which, admittedly wasn't very well for some reason.

The short-haired speaker emerged from a seat at a nearby table. Zelena immediately recognized her 'type'. This mysterious young woman was the kind of bitch that _knew_ she was gorgeous and flaunted it. She wasn't flaunting it to attract men, there was something about her posture that pushed aside that theory. Her short red dress and black-glass heels were designed to radiate power and confidence. The entire look screamed 'I bet you want to fuck, but you better know I'm not _to be fucked_ _ **with'**_ **.**

"I couldn't help but overhear your little...business arrangement"

Zelena crossed her arms defensively. "It was a private matter."

The younger woman smiled softly, but there was nothing gentle about it. There was a light in her right, and sole visible, eye that was almost a _hunger._ "I promise that I will be _discreet_.The other option is that I can also be _discreet."_

"I won't give it out for free," the reporter ground out. "It'll take some serious cash."

That infuriating, _dangerous,_ and all around unsettling smirk found its way back on to the mystery woman's lips."Money has never been my concern. After all...you can't take it with you."

* * *

Jaune had only been this nervous three times in his life. The first had been when his sisters had called a 'meeting' about a year before he left for Sanctum. Jaune's feet still hurt after all the dancing. Second, had been about a month ago when Pyrrha had asked for his advice on a dress. Jaune's best, _hyper-attractive_ , friend had worn a simple Southern Vacuoan dress known as a qipao. Pyrrha's dress had been a red satin one. Jaune's brain had shut down and he had been incredibly nervous that anything he said would have simply been some stammered variant of "Holy shit."

The third time was Jaune's first time in this exact chair in Headmaster Stravos' office. Somehow, Jaune's documents had passed muster. He had been accepted into Sanctum. Jaune wasn't sure the exact reason Stravos had asked to speak with him. The events of the day had made the Arc rather paranoid.

Headmaster Stravos leaned back in his chair. The odd mood continued for a few minutes before he finally spoke. "Mr. Arc, I have been looking into your academic record here at Sanctum."

Jaune's body burned fearfully at the declaration. "Y-You have?"

"Mr. Arc, you are painfully average in almost every area of education, save one." Stavros commented idly. "Your tactics are, frankly, very far above average."

"Thank you sir," Jaune breathed.

Stravos smiled. "I have taken the liberty of looking into your interactions with your classmates in group projects and other 'arenas'. Jaune, you have far greater potential than you realize. I wanted you to know...I wanted you to know that I have put a commendation on your permanent records for your progress and theories."

"Oh...thank you, sir," Jaune stammered. He had feared his connection to Albastru Caioe had been discovered. The pride swelled and entwined with his shame.

 _'I have to tell Pyrrha,'_ Jaune thought glumly. The young man did manage to keep a straight face until he left the office. Pyrrha could read him like no one else. The Champion recognized Jaune's dark leaning thoughts and approached cautiously. Jaune pepared himself for the inevitable questions.

"Jaune, is everything alright? Did something happen in your meeting with the Headmaster?"

A smile, a legitimate smile, worked its way onto Jaune's face. "That actually went great! He put a commendation on my permanent record for some of the strategies I've come up with for dealing with Grimm."

"That is grand!" Pyrrha exclaimed. Jaune struggled not to laugh, in full good-humor, at one of Pyrrha's 'catchphrases'. Her voice dropped a bit as she took a step closer. "I can tell something is bothering you."

Jaune's smile went from exceedingly proud to wry and nervous. "Yeah, but it's...related to that one thing we talked about."

"I understand. Maybe...we could talk about it as we study? I could use your help with some history work," Pyrrha said with immaculate delicacy. The pair slipped off to the library. In order to give credence to their meeting, Jaune helped Pyrrha with an essay on the military history of the Great War. "Thank you, Jaune."

The Arc grinned at the gratitude. "You're welcome. Now, I guess you'd like for me to quit stalling?"

"If you feel comfortable," Pyrrha answered with unflappable politeness.

"That sponsor I mentioned? Yeah...I didn't know it when I contacted him, but he's... Albastru Caioe..." Jaune revealed.

Pyrrha swallowed back a gasp that could have exposed Jaune's story to eavesdropping. " Albastru Caioe...the bookie?"

"Yeah...he's kind of gotten me by the balls. I...I've had to pass him information on tournament matchups. Caioe has a mid-level prosecutor deep in debt and he's leveraging that to keep me passing along info."

The Champion bit her lip. "He has considerable leverage..."

"I know," Jaune sighed. "I've been looking into finding out who this prosecutor is, but I'm coming up empty. Heck, the search to help get me clear won't look good given who I have had to associate with..."

"I promise to help you in any way I can," the beautiful redhead did her best to reassure her closest friend.

"Thanks, Pyrrha," Jaune sighed. He couldn't bring himself to admit that he wouldn't bear to get Pyrrha involved. She had such an incredible future and potential. He wouldn't drag her into this mess if he could avoid it. _'If I can't solve this on my own, what good am I?'_

* * *

Zelena was normally a very personable individual. The reporter loved to draw out conversations, build connections, and squirrel out great stories from people. Broúntzos, wonderful...loving...caring Broúntzos, often said her least favorite word was goodbye. He was right. She hated goodbyes. Zelena hated seeing a curiosity slip away.

There were exceptions to every rule.

As the mystery femme fatale stalked away like an apex predator, Zelena prayed to Oum above that they would never cross paths again. There was something...unholy...about that woman.

"Enough, to hell with that bitch," Zelena whispered acidically. She had more important things to worry about, like her meeting with her boss, Zolta Novinarstvo. The Editor of _Mistralan Inquisitor_ had been chomping at the bit for a new story about _anyone_ famous in order to shore up MI's market share. Pyrrha Nikos was the Holy Grail being a gorgeous up and coming champion. The problem was she was too clean. That was were Zelena's story came in. It would also hopefully secure the reporter a raise before the wedding!

"Come in, Zelena," Zolta called from her office. "I want to hear this angle you have been working!"

Zel grinned a winning grin as she entered. "Boss, you are going to love it. Everyone wants stories on Pyrrha Nikos, besides what she's been wearing to publicity events."

"We all know Pyrrha doesn't make waves. The last story was that dumbass actor and his ego. We're in the middle of a drought about Mistral's, probably Remnant's biggest star."

Zelena slid her Scroll over. "Behold a monsoon."

The lioness of an editor scanned the files on one Jaune Arc. "I don't get how a file on a distant descendant of one of the Vytal Signatories counts as a Pyrrha Nikos Monsoon."

"They are dancing around each other in public. If you look at the Social Media file, the rumor mill has trolled up some juicy bits," Zelena beamed.

Zolta's face lit up. "Okay, this can work as a minor story. I can't see how a guy with anger issues is enough to warrant the front page you hinted at in your e-mail."

"I think he's a fraud," the reporter said bluntly.

"Fraud?"

"Oh yes," Zelena beamed as she leaned back in her chair. "He shows up half-way through the last semester. Zolta, ma'am, pull up his transcripts. There are two things you should see. I have them marked..."

Zolta looked at the first. "Why do you have his parent's signature marked?"

"Check the edges. It was a scan and paste job." The details leapt out at the Editor. _She_ had forged a few documents in her day in pursuit of a story...and a divorce...but this job was fantastic.

"He did this himself?"

Zelena chuckled. "Either that or the second annotation had something to do with it."

"Portocale Gati. Is that name supposed to mean anything?" The Editor asked flatly.

"Working to confirm it, but...it is an alias Albastru Caioe has used in the past...or is his birth-name."

Zolta leaned back in her chair. "Three weeks. We launch this story in three weeks. Get Cijan, Voda, and Crvena on this. Have them get information on Jaune Arc and his entire family history. Medical records if they can get those too."

"On it," Zelena agreed. She was giddy as she dashed out of the office. This was going to make her career!

* * *

Jaune still considered Albastru Caioe the absolute worst thing about his time at Sanctum. There wasn't really a close second place. If he _had_ to pick a second place, the times where Pyrrha was not on campus were definitely it.

 _'Well, maybe when the cafeteria serves 'Medley Meatloaf'. That is a nightmare worthy of a Goliath...'_ Jaune admitted.

Pyrrha wasn't pleased to leave this time. She had time to process Jaune's revelations and seemed bound and determined to pick up where they left off the day of the first confession. Jaune was bummed, but he knew that as 'just friends' it probably wouldn't have been appropriate for Jaune to tag along to Pyrrha's cousin's small family-centric wedding.

So, here Jaune was; bored. Very, very bored. "I wish something would happen."

One day, Jaune Arc would learn to be very careful what he wished for. Odds are, the universe would oblige.

"Mr. Arc," the TA from the Remedial Class snapped Jaune out of his musing. The voice was cold, almost angry, and immediately set off all sorts of alarm bells in the student's mind. "Headmaster Erithros Stavro has summoned you to his office. You are to follow me immediately and say nothing."

Jaune nodded. There was no mistaking what the source of this meeting was. He was done. Jaune Arc's fraud had been discovered.

 _'Well, I'm going to face this with as much dignity as I can muster,'_ Jaune declared resolutely. _'I'm kind of glad Pyrrha isn't here. This would devastate her.'_

"Reporting as _requested,"_ Jaune said with military precision. One of the worst parts was that Stravos had become a huge supporter of Jaune. The student flinched as a tabloid paper was thrown in his face.

"Jaune, do you have any idea what you've done?" Stravos was angry, but hurt was clearly another major emotion. "You are a _criminal_ and despite your exceptional academic record, and what I thought was your exceptional character, I cannot do anything to cover for you. Did you realize that since you mailed your falsified documents the crimes you committed are _international?"_

"N-No sir, I did not," Jaune confessed.

Erithros ran his hands through his hair. "I already have the Prosecutor's office calling for me to hand you over. Though, given your reaction just now, you aren't surprised...Jaune...I still have some faith in you. I want you to explain **everything.** I can't keep you from being expelled. If the allegations you were connected to several underworld elements were false, I _could_ delay. This...my hands are tied and the _Council_ is calling for your expulsion. If I'm going to help you at all, you _have_ to tell me everything."

The next three and a half hours were little more than Jaune laying his entire soul bare to someone the Arc had truly come to respect. Jaune was not too proud to bottle up his emotions. There were tears.

Silence reigned for several minutes as Erithros contemplated what Jaune had revealed. "Albastru Caioe is more dangerous than you realize. He hasn't made any major moves against you since he actually _likes you_ , as difficult as that is to believe. However, he hates sloppiness. I'm worried that he may seek retribution for putting his name in the papers."

"He's going to try to have me killed?" Jaune asked in resignation. The boy already knew the answer. Heck, he could hear Albastru's mocking semi-apology already. "What should I do?"

"Leave Mistral, sadly. I can't go into many details, but Albastru had connections that are exceedingly dangerous. Connections that will take personal offense for your actions shining a light in their direction. I have a contact on the Primary Continent near the border with Vale. He can help you."

"What about Pyrrha? Or my sisters...or my parents?" Jaune asked.

The Headmaster noticed the order. "I will contact them. Tomorrow night, you _must_ be at the Eighth Street Station."

"Time?"

Stravos was impressed by Jaune's focus. "Seven-thirty."

Jaune nodded. "Anything else?"

"Not that I can tell you. The less you know the safer you are right now," the Headmaster said quickly.

"If I have permission, I'll take my leave..." Jaune trailed off.

Erithros sighed. "Keep your scroll active."

"Yes sir," The Arc said quickly before dashing from the office.

Stravos checked the CCTS and saw that the warrant for Jaune's arrest was still pending. Jaune was also flagged as blacklisted from Shade, Haven, and Atlas. Curiously, Ozpin had made no comments or moves in regards to Jaune's chances to enter Beacon. Stravos would have to call in every favor, and provide a few, from and to Ozpin to cover for Jaune. The boy had too much potential to be crushed and thrown away. Yes, he had made mistakes. His actions were unequivocally wrong. Jaune's motivations were beyond reproach.

He stared at Beacon's contact information. In that moment, Stravos made the choice that would likely end his career.

Jaune was packing frantically. He had finally managed to squirrel out the identity of the prosecutor from one of the many shady contacts procured through Albastru's network of scumbags. Jaune had discreetly been reaching out to the man's favorite co-worker. Luckily for Jaune's revenge ploy, the man's favorite co-worker did not share the same opinion of the junior prosecutor. She had, in fact, filed a formal complaint for unwanted sexual advances.

 _'I really shouldn't be surprised,'_ Jaune chuckled darkly.

Continuing to exploit his somewhat questionably procured skills, Jaune picked the lock to Pyrrha's room. Jaune's best friend wasn't close to her roommate. Pyrrha was a chronic overachiever thanks to her desire to put her all into everything. Her roommate...eh...

Still, that lackadaisical nature was playing right into Jaune's plans. Slipping into Pyrrha's section of the room, Jaune produced a handwritten letter. He slipped it into Pyrrha's favorite book and then made like the letter and slipped away.

Sanctum Academy was quiet as Jaune slipped away. The fugitive did not look back. He honestly couldn't bear to.

 _'I had been so close,'_ Jaune swallowed the bitter thought as he arrived at the Eight Street Station at Seven-thirty.

"Punctual, Mr. Arc," a man with an accent Jaune couldn't place said from behind the young man.

"Ack! How did you do that?" Jaune whisper-yelled.

The man smiled. Jaune made eye-contact, but could only hold it for a moment. There was something off about the man's eyes. The quick diversion seemed to make the man's grin beam. "Humans are quite predictable."

"Okay..." Jaune paused. "Professor Stravos didn't give me your name."

"Of course not," the man stated. He was infuriatingly enigmatic. "You can call me Doctor Capaldi. Stravos and I worked on several archeological digs together. In a manner of speaking."

Jaune raised an eyebrow at the smug older man wearing a herringbone tweed three-piece suit. He had a white dress shirt, a gold pocket watch, and finely shined black derby shoes. The man's red hair was graying, especially at the sideburns and tip of his goatee.

"A manner of speaking," Jaune repeated eventually.

Doctor Capaldi leaned forward. "Exactly, Mr. Arc. We have a train to catch for the coast."

"Why are you agreeing to help me? I can tell you aren't the kind of person to do this sort of thing as just a favor for an associate."

The man chuckled again. "You are a puzzle, Mr. Arc. I am quite fond of puzzles. Besides, time will tell if my little theory about you is correct."

"And what theory is that?" Jaune asked, meeting the odd professor's eyes yet again.

"In the words of a woman I was...very...fond of a very long time ago said with vigor... _spoilers."_

That was not what Jaune had been expecting. Caught completely off guard, the young man could only follow the older man towards their train. He did not ask how they were going to board the train without tickets. All Jaune could think was, "I'm sorry I let you down, Pyrrha."


	3. Chapter 3

A resounding and sympathetic wince echoed through the stadium. A thunderbolt had struck the Mistral Regional Tournament. The thunderbolt obliterated all that stood in its path. The first two rounds were reduced to smoldering craters that received nary a backwards glance. The third round had started well for the challenger. The challenger had managed to land a glancing blow with a kick leather-clad boot.

Unfortunately, that was the biggest mistake anyone at the tournament outside of Mistral's Council had made in several months.

Pyrrha Nikos was an exceptionally angry woman. Her anger was not directed at any of her fellow competitors. No, they were simply being used as _assets_ to express her displeasure at the unfathomably stupid and unfair decision to expel Jaune and drive him into exile. Headmaster Stravos had promised that Jaune had an 'individual of unique talents and prowess' looking after him. That did not reassure Pyrrha in the least. She had complete confidence in her best friend, if the girl wasn't terrified of admitting he had quickly become far more than that, but there were forces arrayed against Jaune that were not 'simply' Grimm.

_'Focus, Pyrrha,'_ the reigning champion chastised herself. _'Kastana can help you with the apologies later.'_

Miló sang out and Pyrrha found her mark. Her opponent doubled over from the hit to his midsection. The 'Invincible Girl' had closed the distance in the blink of an eye. She skidded across the final few feet in a whirling leg sweep. Pyrrha was not a showy person outside of the arena, but she was well aware the masses loved a show. So, her display gave the people what they wanted. Leaping clear of her downed opponent, Pyrrha prepared to deliver a 'killing' blow with Akoúo̱. That plan ended quickly as her opponent cried out "Yield!"

Pyrrha nodded at the judge to accept the yield. The crowd roared their approval. Pyrrha took a bow as the crowd continued to chant her name. Again, she was not a showy person by nature. There was absolutely no way Pyrrha could deny the absolute rush that came from an adoring crowd.

She still wished Jaune was here.

* * *

Jaune Arc was not physically present at the Mistral Regional Tournament, but he was certainly there in spirit. That being said...

Pyrrha could _probably_ hear Jaune yelling like a kid who got the perfect birthday present at the TV in the boat's lounge. He practically tore his pack apart to get his Scroll out. Jaune's mysterious, smug, and far too clever traveling companion simply sipped at his odd coffee and chortled. The fugitive had quickly learned to ignore the eccentricities of Doctor Capaldi.

_'Here we go,'_ Jaune thought cheerfully as he logged on at Pyrrha's official forum. He had teased her about it a few times, but Jaune was never happier to know Pyrrha had a sockpuppet account. She had used it twice. Once, when she didn't want someone else to have the name of her favorite children's book as their username. Second, to check out what exactly people were saying when her official account wasn't logged in.

Now, it was a semi-clandestined manner for the two close friends to keep in touch.

_'You were amazing! Wish I could have been there. I owe you cotton candy, don't I? I'm safe and the Doctor is still as odd as ever. I might try to find out when I can come back to Mistral. With the revelation about the prosecutor being corrupt, that could help. I miss you. A lot. Like, the amount of water in the ocean is maybe 1/3rd how much I miss you kind of lot.'_

A breath that was some horrible mutant chimera of regretful, relieved, wistful, relaxed, smitten and happy escaped Jaune's lips as the 'sent' confirmation appeared on the screen. Now that he had today's important task completed, Jaune was free to enjoy his cheeseburger.

Three bites in, he was interrupted by, "Mr. Arc, I have some excellent news."

Jaune's swallow of his latest bite was slow, deliberate, and a very clear message. "And that is, Doctor?"

"I have located something that I have...misplaced...recently. It is on a train in Atlas. I would greatly like your assistance in making sure that certain elements on board the train do not secure my...'Personal Transport'. There will also be an interesting encounter I'm sure you will find beneficial."

"Beneficial," Jaune repeated the final word. "As in that run in with those 'Grimm' in the warehouse? And yes, Doctor, I know they were not actually Grimm."

"Your world expanded that day. That is a gift many do not receive, Mr. Arc and fewer _accept."_

"Who are you, really?" Jaune asked.

Doctor Capaldi leaned forward. "Just a doctor."

"Of **what?"** The fugitive companion of a very eccentric man asked another question. This time it was full of steel.

"Unlocking potential," Capaldi laughed. It didn't make Jaune feel any better. In fact, he wondered if anyone was as annoyed or mad as he was right now...

* * *

Nichol Arc was admirably managing his absolute rage at the situation surrounding his son, Jaune. First, he discovered that Jaune's entry into Sanctum Academy had been an utter falsehood. The elder Arc had harbored misgivings, but Jaune had presented everything to the family, explained the supposedly legitimate way he had entered the Academy thanks to a 'lotto', and even provided proof he had a sponsor in Mistral. Jaune had been confident, proud, and carried himself with an excitement that was impossible to deny that day.

Nichol had been proud of his son.

That pride was now ash in his mouth. His _son_ was a wanted criminal and in far too much danger.

"Mr. Stravos," Nichol growled as his wife sobbed next to him. The omission of Stravos' title was a deliberate snipe at the man. "This Albastru Caioe is a common criminal. Unless he has all of Mistral by the balls with blackmail, he shouldn't be able to force my son into hiding."

"Mr. Arc," Erithros responded with an equally deliberate tone. "What I am about to say is of the utmost confidentiality."

The former Hunter's eyes narrowed in anger, but he allowed the headmaster to continue.

"The issue is not with Albastru Caioe alone. Albastru is a Faunus...he has hidden his nature as a Faunus incredibly well. The only hint to his nature is the fangs in his mouth."

"Portocale...why would he do that to Jaune?" Mrs. Arc sobbed once again.

"It isn't so much Albastru doing it, but a mix of Jaune's character and who Albastru finances..." Erthros revealed.

"The Fang..." Nichol hissed.

The Headmaster nodded gravely once. "From our...sources...Albastru was attempting to groom Jaune for a position in his personal criminal enterprises. That meant Jaune was occasionally exposed to individuals that are believed to be White Fang operatives. Jaune's innate desire to do what is right would see him testify against Albastru...and his associates."

"How deep in the White Fang is this son of a bitch?" Nichol asked.

Stravos looked at the ceiling. "Deep. There are unconfirmed reports that Albastru has met with Adam Taurus himself at least once."

"Fuck," was all Nichol could say. There was nothing else that _could_ be said.

* * *

Albastru Caioe was eternally thankful that he was only communicating with the head of the primary faction of the White Fang via a pirated CCTS feed. Adam Taurus was not a forgiving Faunus, but unlike Ghira Belladona he was a Faunus that was getting _results._

Caioe would never admit it, but there was also an element of fear driving his interactions with Adam. Albastru never was concerned by Ghira's disapproval of his funding methods. The new leadership was far more willing to do what needed to be done.

That being said, Caoie had to proceed with caution. He was not a dyed-in-the-wool True Believer like 'Brother' Adam or Ghira's daughter. If Adam discovered Albastru was skimming off the top, there would be hell to pay.

So, as the connection to the Operation in Atlas was made, Albastru smoothed out his simple shirt and jacket. Adam was exacting in his standards, both for himself and those of the Fang, even on visual feeds.

"Brother Albastru," Adam greeted. "You exceeded expectations on the latest funding."

"Thank you, Brother," Albastru responded with consummate, yet feigned, politeness and deference. "I must inform you of a potential 'blip' in the funding from our gambling revenue stream. One of my sources has recently been forced to ground. The young man is currently on the run for...international mail fraud and forgery..."

Adam maintained his eerie stillness and perfect control. The mask hid the young visionary's eyes. "How much does he know?"

"Only what I showed him," Albastru revealed with the complete truth. "He had no direct meetings with any open brothers or sisters. As far as he knows, everyone we interacted with was simply a member of my sportsbook operation."

"But if he testifies, the humans could make a threadbare connection and use that to start dismantling our funding operations after one of their show trials." Adam huffed violently. It was a holdover of his Faunus heritage.

"He is currently on the run..."

Adam took a step forward. Despite the distance between Mistral and Atlas, Albastru slinked back a bit. The leader continued with a simmering anger, "And wanted on _International_ charges! He can be arrested by anyone! What if Atlas and its Operatives get a hold of him? What then, Brother Albastru?"

"It would be a serious blow to our insurgency," the criminal admitted.

"Issue Directive Five," Adam ordered. "There is no need for a statement, but we cannot afford loose ends."

"Immediately, Brother," Albastru agreed. He would do as ordered, but Caoie would certainly feel a pang of regret later. Jaune had actually been a half-decent chap...for a human.

* * *

It was autumn in Atlas. The rustling of falling leaves seemed to occur in sync with the turning of the page. The young woman engrossed herself in books. Before missions, the agent of the White Fang would read stories of liberation and heroism. The Faunus would often find her literary pursuits drawn to the monomyth foundations of both Faunus and human literature.

Blake Belladonna, daughter of Ghira and Kali Belladona the founders of the White Fang, had realized months ago that her reading habits were an expression of her idealism that the current incarnation of the White Fang was battling so hard to squash. Originally, the White Fang had been an organization dedicated to racial equality. The marches, boycotts, main stream political engagement, and economic pressures had only gotten so far. The Kingdoms had 'graciously' provided Menagerie to the Faunus. The island was not a _horrible_ consolation prize, as Blake personally held many fond memories of her childhood upon the island. At the end of the day, Menagerie was just that...a menagerie. It was a tropical, gilded cage to put the troublesome Faunus aside while the Kingdoms could congratulate themselves on their 'progressive generosity'. The whole concept was a farce.

Blake couldn't believe the visionary former leaders of the White Fang could be content with the isolated 'zoo' halfheartedly handed to the Faunus. The Kingdoms had provided no proper infrastructure to the Faunus 'homeland'. There was no CCTS Tower, no industry, and no external assistance in building proper infrastructure. Menagerie had bankrupted itself just trying to build its lone port and import enough agricultural equipment to be self-sufficient.

Blake's growing resentment hadn't been an isolated case. A large number of Faunus across Remnant harbored the same grievances. Faunus who had elected to brave the still-entrenched prejudices by remaining in the Kingdoms were reaching out to the White Fang. One of the most common issues facing Faunus in the Kingdoms were exploitative 'employment' and 'excessive' policing. Few Faunus considered themselves lucky to get a decent job. Most, were basically little more than wage slaves. The new polices of the SDC under Jacques Schnee had forced many of Atlas's Faunus into a vicious cycle of Debt Slavery. The White Fang was slowly morphing into a Liberation Movement instead of a political movement.

At first, this had been a trajectory Blake had wholeheartedly supported. The first 'military' actions had been against traffickers who were kidnapping Faunus to sell into sexual slavery or 'employment' in SDC mines or against the robotic police forces that were turning Faunus enclaves into virtual prisons or ghettos.

Then more radical White Fang elements had begun targeting living police forces openly. They did not differentiate between human and Faunus. In their manifestos, they had declared the Faunus officers 'race traitors'. Blake had approached Adam about such actions in the hopes he would work with the head of the political wing of the White Fang, Sienna Khan, in denouncing such actions. Instead, Adam had _praised_ the 'uncompromising vision' of the radicals. Blake had not argued at that time. Adam had always been passionate and militaristic.

Unfortunately, he was not simply giving his tacit support to the fringe elements of the White Fang. He was directing them! Adam was bringing them into the mainstream. Kidnappings, bombings of civilian areas, and naked bandit raids were becoming the norm. Blake's faith in the organization founded by her parents was fraying quickly. It was holding on by the thinnest of threads. She still _wanted_ to believe in the White Fang, but if Adam crossed one more line...

"Blake, it's time..." Adam announced as he emerged from the woods.

Blake nodded. "How was the financial report?" She wasn't an expert on how the White Fang was funded, but she was acutely aware it took lien to feed, arm, clothe, and keep the Movement operating.

"Financially? Excellent. Politically and operationally, there was a complication. A human in the employ of one of our financiers was recently issued with international warrants. The human scum is the type to turn state's evidence. I've issued a Directive Five."

"Directive Five? He can't know _that_ much, can he? We would never allow a human that deep in our organization. Directive Five..." Blake couldn't believe Adam had ordered an assassination on an _accountant_.

"Is necessary! Do you think that tyrant, Ironwood would care about how connected this scum was to the White Fang? It would provide Atlas the perfect opportunity for mass arrests! My Darling, if we are to build a world worth living in, we will have to tear down the Old World."

Blake only nodded. She wasn't willing to provoke Adam before a mission, but she couldn't help but notice that the emphasis in his last sentence had been on possessing her and tearing down the world.

She had decided. This was the end.

* * *

"Mr. Arc," Capaldi called out. The strange doctor of everything pushed something that looked like a police officer's badge holder into Jaune's hands. "I believe this will prove to be quite useful."

Jaune's face scrunched up in confusion. "It's _blank."_

"It's _psychic,"_ the Doctor countered. "You can use it to project credentials into someone's mind. Very useful. They see what you want them to see."

"Does it permanently alter their minds?"

The Doctor smiled. "An astute question, Mr. Arc. No, consider it...an illusion rather than a traditional imprint."

"Okay," Jaune relented. He didn't like the idea of altering someone's mind and perceptions permanently. "Now what?"

"I'll see you soon, Mr. Arc," Doctor Capaldi said with a slight incline of the head. Strangely, it was the most polite gesture Jaune's traveling associate had ever offered.

The fugitive Huntsman in training watched the strange man leave the dining car for...somewhere. Jaune had a feeling that Capaldi wasn't returning to the only passenger car despite heading in that direction. Jaune turned and looked out the window.

And saw smoke. "Can _nothing_ go according to plan, Doctor Capaldi?"

"All passengers are to return to their cabins! There is a _situation_ on the freight cars..." An announcement filtered across the intercom.

The low rumbling of an explosion reverberated through the train. "This is going to be worse than the Warehouse..."

Jaune unsheathed and expanded Crocea Mors into its combat form. As he advanced, he held the shield and sword in the stance Pyrrha had drilled into him during his time at Sanctum. Jaune barely managed to keep his footing when the train lurched violently. "Definitely worse than the Warehouse..."

* * *

Blake was thankful she was as familiar with Adam as she was. The now White Fang _defector_ was well aware he was too drained from wielding Wilt and Blush in coordination with his Semblance to pursue her. She sighed as she leaned up against one of the boxes of some nondescript crate of some consumer product or another.

"I ran away again," Blake whispered.

The doors to the train car opened and a rather annoyed looking young man entered the room. "I'm walking into something incredibly risky. This is like the Shev situation all over again..."

"Uh, hello?" Blake heard the Huntsman call out. "Say hello back if you're _not_ a creature known as a Shev, you know...with black shark skin, one eye, and a fondness for human and Faunus sashimi...or a rogue SDC Paladin who achieved sentience and wants to start a revolution..."

Blake made a rather confused face at that declaration. She had no clue what a Shev was, but meeting one now wasn't very high on her to-do list. _'Was it some kind of Grimm?'_

"You aren't SDC are you?" Blake called out after maneuvering around the newcomer.

"I'm Jaune Arc and currently wanted on international forgery and mail/computer fraud charges...so...probably not?"

Blake's eyes went wide. Her luck couldn't be this ridiculous, could it? "How did you manage to pull that off?"

"I pulled off a really _really_ good forgery to get into Sanctum, but the paparazzi revealed that I _kinda_ was connected to a notorious mobster type, and I was chased out. That's the short version," Jaune finished with a shrug, but kept Crocea Mors active.

"That's it?" Blake asked incredulously. She was clearly fishing for more information, but that sounded very close to what happened.

Jaune gripped his sword tighter. "You aren't a bounty hunter are you?"

"No!" Blake shouted from her concealed location. "I'm...also on the run from dangerous people. This mobster type...it isn't Albastru Caoie is it?"

Jaune threw up his arms as Blake rounded the corner, but not in surrender. It was in exasperation. "This is probably Doctor Capaldi's fault. Not sure how, but it's probably his fault."

"Who?" Blake asked.

The blond fugitive opened his mouth and raised a finger before halting. "You hear that, right?"

"Six people are headed this way..."

"I'm about to do something a bit nuts. Please don't take it personally..." Jaune quickly apologized as he rifled through a nearby piece of luggage. "Perfect! Quick put this on!"

Blake barely had time to catch the elaborate shaw before Jaune smiled. "You're now Syringa and I'm Asfar."

"What?" Blake snapped as she put the covering on completely.

"No time, just...we're from a nomadic tribe from eastern Vacuo." Jaune gestured towards the door. He donned another ethnic outfit and pulled out an odd sheet of paper in a booklet. Blake, playing to her role, moved cautiously behind one of the crates.

"Hey! The hell are you two doing back here!" An SDC security goon barked.

Jaune bowed. "Peace, brothers. My zahra and I were seeking refuge...One of the other passengers knows our families..."

"And why is that a bad thing?" Another guard asked.

Blake watched through the face covering as Jaune _actually_ blushed. "My zahra and I are eloping. Syringa and I discovered that her father had arranged a marriage to a man twice her age for a _pittance..."_

The guards looked at each other in silent 'conversation'. Jaune's tone had been so fervent that the romantic in Blake nearly swooned as if this was all a scene from one of her romance novels.

"We're still going to need to see your papers," the lead guard announced.

Jaune put on a winning smile and produced the _blank_ identification papers. Blake was about to use her Semblance to flee from the looming disaster when the guard flashed a sympathetic look at Jaune.

"Kid, you've got balls. So does your girl," the guard commended the pair.

Blake couldn't believe that the SDC goons had not only bought Jaune's story, and fallen for whatever that paper was, but were practically forcing several dozen Lien down his throat. A few moments after the guards left with a tip of the hat and a promise to keep an eye out for Asfar and Syringa's family, Blake turned to her 'beloved'.

"You really are good at this whole fraud thing..."

"Eh," Jaune vocalized with a shrug. "Had to be to get into Sanctum and avoid being eaten that one time."

"Eaten? By what, Grimm?" Blake asked.

The Hunter chuckled nervously. "Something like that. I promise I'll fill you in soon, but I think we should find my, uh, chaperone. The Doctor can probably get us off this train."

"The Doctor? What kind of name is that?" Blake questioned.

"I don't know honestly..."

Blake snorted at the reaction. This Jaune Arc was certainly an interesting case. She hadn't really interacted with Albastru Caoie in the past. However, she knew his...type...and Jaune certainly had the clever and sarcastic part down. Still, he wasn't anything she expected. Jaune Arc clearly wasn't the type to be an accountant. The idea of him sitting quietly at a desk crunching numbers was clearly the most alien image to ever pop into her head.

An unnatural whirring, whistling, and scrapping noise filled the train car. The two not-quite-Hunters stared in wide-eyed wonder and a bit of fear as a blue box began to materialize a few feet away. Jaune flashed Blake a glance just as the doors swung open with an audible creak.

"It's..." Blake gasped.

"Bigger on the inside?" Jaune exclaimed while gaping like a beached fish.

Doctor Capaldi emerged with a fox-like grin. "I do love that reaction from you humans. Oh, and don't protest, Ms. Belladonna..."

The words shocked Blake into silence. She was heartened to see that the look Jaune was now giving her was one of concern for her well-being and not questioning.

"Mr. Arc, if I may have a word with you?" The Doctor asked.

Jaune nodded and followed the Doctor into the mysterious box. Blake was strongly considering using this opportunity to put some further distance between herself, Adam, the SDC, and even Jaune. Granted, Jaune was a curiosity and seemed to be a nice guy. She just couldn't afford any distractions at the moment. Her life was in too much turmoil. A vicious debate was raging between the homesick daughter and the young woman who felt the need for independent self-discovery. The fact that both sides were looking for the same thing made the internal debate even fiercer.

Blake had completed a half-turn. She was a single step away from committing to running away, again. Instead, Doctor Capaldi's impossible box had other ideas. The creaking of the doors froze her in place as sure as any Ice Dust blast.

"I have to do this my way, Doctor. You said...you said that this world needs me. I can't leave knowing that," Jaune responded sympathetically.

"That it does. You are a noble man, Mr. Arc." The Doctor extended a hand. "The offer to travel with me and the TARDIS never truly expires."

Jaune accepted the handshake. "Maybe. Goodbye, Doctor."

"Mr. Arc, goodbyes imply permanency. One day you will understand, partings are simply bookmarks," Capaldi philosophized with a smile.

"If you say so," Jaune chuckled.

"Everything I say is chosen with the utmost care, Mr. Arc. Even the lies... _especially_ the lies," the strange traveler revealed. He reached back into the Box and retrieved a Scroll. As he fished out a strange gilded wooden cylinder, he continued. "I will give you a truth, for today at least."

"For today? A truth that last for today or will you tell me a truth today?" Jaune asked. Blake was wondering about the wording in similar terms. Entranced by the strange drama, she stayed silent.

"An excellent question," The Doctor dodged answering and waved the now whirring device around the edges of the Scroll. "But, there will come a day where you will know what to do with a certain setting on this Scroll. On that day, I will be there no matter where, when, or...how. Good luck, Mr. Arc. I look forward to seeing how you progress."

"Uh, thanks," Jaune said accepting the Scroll, the cryptic warning, and the compliment.

"Allons-y!" the Doctor declared before returning to his transport with a knowing look to both Jaune and Blake.

"What was that?" Blake somehow managed to ask.

"A metaphor, an offer, and something that scares the hell out of me," Jaune answered. He sighed and turned away from the de-materializing box. "I vote to run away. I don't know if my paper trick will work without the Doctor here anymore."

"To where?" Blake asked, caught up in the mystery, wonder, and shock of the event that had just transpired.

"Dunno, I could go for some coffee though..."

Blake shook her head. "Make it tea, and I might consider it."

 


	4. Chapter 4

There was a hush in the small coffee shop as a dark and mysteriously beautiful woman and an armored blond-headed Huntsman stumbled into the establishment. It was clear that they had been through a great deal recently. They were exhausted, sweaty, and carried a few scratches that had slipped through their Aura. As the pair moved towards a window table in the back, the crowd parted. The woman's closed off body language when glancing towards anyone other than her companion made sure that no one would approach their isolated table.

"So, _Jaune,"_ Blake Belladonna spoke for the first time since the stealthy exit from the train had turned into a running battle against nearly eighty Creeps. "Is this sort of thing 'normal' for you?"

Jaune chuckled. "I did try to warn you before we jumped. It will take a while before the Doctor-ness is washed out of our systems. Expect weirdness to happen a bunch."

"I have to ask...that paper, what _was it?"_ Blake wondered aloud as she looked at the menu.

"Psychic paper, evidently. Something about illusions based on electrical signals being transmitted to the viewer's brain or something."

"It is just paper," Blake stated flatly.

Jaune smiled a half smile that reminded Blake of better days. "Paper from a man with a Box that can travel through space and time that is bigger on the inside."

"That is a fair point," Blake conceded.

The continuation of the conversation faded away as the waiter approached. Blake ordered Kava tea and Jaune ordered coffee.

"Make sure it is about as black as my friend's lovely hair," Jaune added before ordering the most ridiculous chocolate doughnut imaginable.

The waiter laughed and went to put the orders in. Blake rolled her eyes. "Smooth."

"Felt we needed some humor," Jaune admitted. "I have to say, you're a great Huntress."

Blake looked down. "I'm...not a Huntress."

"Not yet, but you can be," Jaune prodded. "Look, you saved my life three times. Three times you had every opportunity to follow Rule Number One: Run. But you came back to save me. If that isn't a sign that you're meant to be a Huntress, then maybe I'm a horrible judge of people. I _did_ hang out with the Doctor for nearly four months..."

"You barely know me!" Blake nearly shouted. She quickly quieted down. "I appreciate everything you have done for me, but I want to know _why?_ What's your angle?"

"My angle?" Jaune squawked. "Do I have to have one of those?"

Blake's amber eyes bored into Jaune's blue. "Everyone has an angle. People I trusted for _years,_ because I believed they had an angle I knew and supported revealed they were changing into dangerous people with even more dangerous angles."

"I haven't checked, but I'm probably blacklisted from every Huntsman Academy on the planet because of, you know," Jaune mentioned. "If I'm going to be honest, and I am, I want to at least _feel_ like a Huntsman for a bit. Maybe I'm clinging desperately to some kind of fairy tale, but it is my fairy tale."

Conversation paused as the order was delivered. The pair sipped on their drinks for a few moments. "This is not a world for idealist," Blake lamented.

"Remnant really isn't," Jaune concurred. "But isn't it worth fighting for? I mean, I don't want to be beaten by the world."

"The world will try," Blake continued her lament.

"The world will try," Jaune actually agreed. "Remnant is going to throw everything it can at us. I plan on throwing it right back."

"So, you'd answer hate with hate?" Blake challenged Jaune's wording.

"That's not..." Jaune sighed. "Well, there goes my speech writing career."

The former White Fang member smiled weakly and shook her head. In her, very short, time with Jaune, Blake had picked up on a few tells. Jaune 'jawed' as he thought. He would open his mouth, and shut it, as he debated which word to use. Jaune wasn't the best speaker when put on the spot. He wasn't eloquent, but he was clever.

After the third 'open and shut', Jaune's brow furrowed and his eyes lightened. "What I meant was, I want to give as much good to the world as the bad I take from it. If the Grimm attack, I want to help fight them off. _Then_ stick around to make sure the people can either build their defenses or help them find a new home."

"Idealist," Blake relented with a smile. Her thoughts traveled across the breadth of time and the sea to another pair of idealists. Shaking those thoughts away, Blake refocused on the man in front of her. "So, what are we going to do now? I don't think the two of us exactly have access to lien."

"We do have a particular set of skills." Jaune's head wobbled as he gave his answer.

Blake rolled her eyes. "We're not going to find, and kill, the human traffickers that kidnapped Spruce Willis's daughter."

"But we _could_ probably take out a Creep using a bulldozer," Jaune pointed out.

"Please," Blake answered with a wry smile. "Don't bring up any more Creeps. I have destroyed enough Creeps to fill some kind of Huntress quota for the next year."

"For real," Jaune groaned. "I lost count after the one I killed with that shovel."

"Let's not talk about Grimm. This cafe is too nice," the ebony-haired beauty suggested.

"It _is_ very nice," Jaune agreed. The light meal and coffee ended. Jaune paid with his account. Blake opened her mouth and started to lean towards Jaune. "There's a reason."

"I sure hope so!" Blake hissed.

"Later," Jaune promised as he rose from his seat. His grin was cautious and hopeful. Blake's shoulders slumped as the tension bled away. Her mouth narrowed to a crease.

As Jaune held the cafe's door open, he almost withered under the look Blake gave him. "I know you can open a door. My mom and _seven sisters_ drilled courtesy stuff like this into me. I have an instinctive fear that if I  don't do stuff like this, they'll teleport to my location and beat me into a very thin paste. If I go, I'd much rather be buried in something other than a tin pail."

"Seven sisters," Blake drew out the word as she walked past.

"Uh, yeah," Jaune confirmed...dumbly. His jaw clenched as he realized that Blake Belladonna did not _walk_. She strutted.

And by the Gods, did she look good doing it.

Jaune Arc hadn't expected there to be a woman on the planet comparable to Pyrrha, but Blake Belladonna was enthralling. His wandering thought, and gaze, was drawn back to the present _proper_ course by a blunt "No".

"Aw come on, babe. I'm sure we can show you a time," a humanoid creep said with a grin that was greasier than a diner fried breakfast.

' _Probably as healthy,'_ Jaune thought sardonically.

"I think the Huntress said no," Jaune quipped.

"Freaking beta," one of the locals grumbled as he flicked some lint from his jacket sleeve.

Blake didn't look back. She kept heading in the direction of a local hostel. Jaune lengthened his stride as he observed the tension in the lead creep's shoulders.

"Don't," Jaune ordered. "I'd really like not to have my friend elbow me in the face when I try to stop her from stomping you like the last dozen Creeps she's finished off."

"Wha?" The jacketed local spat.

Jaune rolled his eyes. "Do you think our weapons are for show? Just...go home."

Much like his traveling partner, Jaune didn't spare a second glance to the two locals. _'How does she move so quick in heels?'_ Jaune thought as he lengthened his stride to catch up.

"You didn't handle that like I thought you would," Blake filled the silence.

The wandering knight quirked his lip. "How did you think I'd handle it?"

"By making it all about you. Trying to see who was the 'biggest' man," Jaune's fellow fugitive explained.

"Three things. First, I've seen you fight. You didn't need help. You needed support. Second, again, I have seven sisters. They _hated_ when people tried to fight their battles for them. And you _definitely_ don't need anyone to fight your battles for you. You're better than I am," Jaune finished with a laugh. "Third, you remind me of my best friend. She's as capable as you are. I know better than to get in a Huntress's way."

Blake _laughed_. She actually laughed at Jaune's declaration. "Afraid of women?"

"Heck no!" Jaune shot down that notion faster than he had laid out Blass back at Sanctum. "I love women. I just know not to piss the fairer sex off. That never ends well."

"I will have to thank your sisters and mother for training you so well," Blake teased as she spun and paused in front of Jaune. The blond nearly ran completely into the woman.

"If you could distract them long enough so that they don't kill me for the fraud thing..." Jaune _partially_ joked.

"You have seven sisters," Blake reminded Jaune. "I couldn't keep my eyes on all of them."

"Can I go fight the Creeps again? I think they'd have more mercy on me than Verte and Magnolia..."

The next morning, Jaune flopped into the chair across from Blake at the hostel's cafeteria. "I got us work."

"Work?" Blake asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"There's a riverboat taking some parts to a lumber mill near the coast. From there, we can probably catch a ship to Sanus," Jaune explained.

"Your 'psychic paper' probably came in useful," Blake pointed out.

Jaune patted the pocket where the tool from the Doctor rested. "It will. They asked to see our credentials. All we have to do is get on board, and we can take it from there."

"Are you sure?"

The young man stared at his fellow-on-the-lam-associate. "Was going to wing it. Winging it has worked so far..."

"Jaune," Blake said with a stern look and even sterner tone. "We fought _eighty Creeps."_

"Yes, and we're alive," Jaune countered. "We also made sure that those Grimm never reached this town in strong enough numbers to put everyone here in danger."

"You aren't _wrong,"_ Blake relented.

"I sense a but," the young man added.

Blake shook her head. "You are taking risks. _Big risks._ First, you used an easily traceable lien card to pay for our meal. Second, you've signed us up for a potentially dangerous mission. Yes, things have turned out alright, but how long will this luck last?"

"There was a reason for the card," Jaune said in a small voice.

"What? Do you _want_ to be tracked down?"

Jaune looked at Blake. "A bit, yeah. I can't call home. There's no way for me to contact my family or my best friend. Any letter I send would get seized before my parents even knew it was written."

"You're risking everything, to send an indirect message to your family?"

Jaune sighed. "I just want to let them know that I'm safe...ish."

Blake sipped at her tea and avoided eye-contact for a moment. Memories of home coursed through her veins like ice water. The warmth of the tea did little to chase away the chill in her gut. "I..."

"Don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Jaune lifted his palms towards Blake. "If you do, I promise I'll respect your secrets."

"Thank you," the young woman whispered. It wasn't the reaction she had expected. Blake had become so used to people prying into her life. She had assumed everyone wanted to know her secrets to control her...like Adam had done.

"You're welcome," Jaune said genuinely before dashing off to create a towering monstrosity of a breakfast plate from the food line. Blake found his genuine attempts to _politely_ pig out hilarious. It was the single most 'guy' thing she had ever seen. In the White Fang, everyone had eaten their rations in silence and as efficiently as possible. Jaune was shoveling food into his mouth as if he had never eaten before. "Oh my god, I haven't eaten since that cheeseburger on the train."

"I was as hungry as I've been in a while," Blake admitted without realizing it. She had no idea why she was letting her guard down around Jaune.

"I bet," Jaune replied. "Now, Blake. I have a hugely, monumentally important question."

"What is so 'hugely, monumentally important', Jaune?"

"Pancakes or Waffles?"

Blake blinked. "Pancakes or waffles...is important?" Jaune nodded. "I've never really had either. Pancakes I guess."

"Am I the only person who prefers waffles?" Jaune lamented.

"Well, pancakes are rarer. How often do you see toaster pancakes?" Blake asked, but quickly quirked an eyebrow. "I still don't get this conversation."

"Nothing really to get. I was just hoping that someone else would prefer waffles to pancakes," Jaune admitted.

Blake watched as Jaune fiddled with his fork. His attempt at humor had likely been an apology. Jaune's plans had become reckless, but they weren't _bad_ plans. _'It's like he is trying to prove to the world that he can do_ it.' Blake thought. _'_ _He believes that he_ can, _but Jaune is trying so hard to prove it.'_

"When do we leave?" Blake relented after a few moments in thought.

* * *

Erithros Stavro watched as the 'courier' of his latest message exited his office. The smell of alcohol followed the man as easily as trouble seemed to. Still, Erithros could not doubt the man's efficiency in sensitive matters. Word had reached the headmaster of Sanctum that Jaune Arc had used his Scroll in order to pay for a meal in a small village. Stravos knew Jaune wasn't that clumsy. The young man had been sending a signal that he was alive and most likely safe.

' _In all likelihood, there will be investigators sent. Remnant's interests would be best served if Vale's agent got to him first,'_ Stravo thought.

His thoughts quickly turned to the questions surrounding Jaune's transcripts and applications had been leaked to the press. Currently, the investigation was being handled very quietly. The 'why' was fairly clear; a trashy gossip rag wanted some new dirt connected to Miss Nikos to sell papers. The how was also obvious. A tunneling program had been installed into Sanctum's computer network. Stravos had requested several Specialists from Atlas to quietly trace the impact the tunnel had on the security of Sanctum and, by extension, Mistral as a whole.

The program was fairly sophisticated. Colonel Arroz seemed especially troubled by how easily the program had been allowed to access so many parts of the network. The report presented to Stravos had even raised concern that the program could have spread across the entire CCTS.

' _Arroz is certainly exaggerating. He is an Atlas Intelligence Agent. It is his job to overstate a threat so that the Kingdoms can be prepared for the worst possible outcomes.'_

Still, it was worth bringing up to the Council. It was a shame Jaune had been burned so completely. The possibility of using the clever young man as a double-agent was tantalizing. Jaune could have been a great agent for looking into the source of the program.

"Some opportunities simply slip away," Erithros lamented. He keyed in a Scroll ID and connected on a voice call.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster Stravo. It is a pleasure. Is there anything you need to discuss?" Pyrrha Nikos greeted with the warmth and politeness she had become known for as much as her skill in the arena.

"I would just like to inform you that our mutual friend is doing quite well," Erithos reported.

"That is wonderful! I… have also been in contact. I was very glad to hear from him," Pyrrha both thanked and reported to her mentor figure.

' _I should not be surprised. Pyrrha and Jaune were quite close,'_ Erithos acknowledged. "Excellent. I hope we can both catch up with him in person very soon."

"Yes," Pyrrha said sadly. Absence was certainly making the heart grow fonder. "That would be lovely."

"Have faith," Erithos said.

The 'Invincible Girl' sighed. "Is there anything else, Headmaster?"

"Miss Nikos, which Academy are you considering?"

"I," Pyrrha paused. "Jaune and I were very excited to apply to Haven together. That… is no longer an option."

"The doors to Haven, Shade, and Atlas are closed to Jaune. _Beacon_ however..." Headmaster Stravo let the words hang in the air.

Pyrrha beamed. "I hear autumn in Vale is lovely."

"Quite," the headmaster agreed. "Good afternoon, Miss Nikos."

Pyrrha felt as though she was walking on air as she departed. There was hope yet.

* * *

"I can travel like this…" Jaune declared breathlessly. It was a way to cross Remnant _in comfort_ and not in one of those awful flying things.

Blake rolled her eyes, but her wry grin betrayed her good humor. "Flying isn't _that_ bad, Arc."

"You're right!" Jaune agreed. His grin was equally teasing. Blake found it was very different from the grins Adam used to send her way. Adam mocked in his smiles. Adam's smiles always held an edge of cruelty to them. There was no cruelty in Jaune Arc's smiles.

' _He is too honest,'_ Blake realized.

"Flying is so much worse!"

"Is it?"

Jaune nodded with the intensity of the righteous. "So. Much. Worse."

"Motion sickness?" Blake asked.

"Motion sickness," Jaune confirmed with a nod.

Blake started to mention storms and the various pitfalls of sea travel. However, Jaune just seemed so happy. There was no way Blake could rob Jaune of such simple optimism and happiness.

Three hours later, Jaune Arc had come to the realization that he could not, in fact, travel like this. It wasn't necessarily the motion of the ocean. It was what happened when a storm arrived.

And the Grimm that followed the storm arriving as well.

Oh, and being one of four 'trained huntsmen or huntresses' on board. Jaune, being well… _himself_ , could not refuse pleas for help. He had rushed onto the deck without a second thought. Blake had been right behind him. Jaune had read a bit about aquatic Grimm. He had heard of the great sea drakes, and Megaladons. Jaune hadn't expected a trio of hideous looking Grimm to flop onto the deck around him. Unnatural ice crystals rested along the dreaded Grimm mask. The air shimmered unnaturally around the massive bulbous creature. As it reared back, exposing foot-and-a-half long serrated tusks, Jaune got a solid look at a Death's head design of bone and scar-tissue upon the beasts' chest.

"Oh come on!" Jaune growled as the first Grimm flopped towards him with surprising speed. Fortunately, Jaune read the pattern. The creature relied on its sheer size to bowl into a victim before bringing down its vicious tusks down in a stabbing hammer blow. It was honestly pretty easy to dodge the attack.

Even though Jaune was struggling with his footing.

And his stomach.

Adrenaline could only help so much. Jaune knew he had to end things quickly. He charged forward, praying the water thrown onto the ship by an angry sea wouldn't cause him to trip at the worst possible moment. Jaune recalled Pyrrha's advice from his days at Sanctum.

' _You will not always fight in ideal conditions. It will be more important than ever to be aware of your stance..'_

Strange, but hearing Pyrrha's voice in his head was a comfort. Jaune quickly remembered to widen and lower his stance. His calf muscles burned as he pushed off to stab into the exposed flesh of the enemy. Crocea Mors bit deep into the pseudo-flesh of the beast. Jaune smirked as he was extremely confident that something vital had been struck by his attack. The fugitive Huntsman glanced over the form of his foe. He was worried about Blake. _'Probably shouldn't have been worried...'_

Blake was practically dancing around the Grimm. She was moving with a grace and ferocity that was almost mesmerizing.

Besides, Jaune remembered that the best fighters he had encountered had been women.

Shame he couldn't remember he was in a battle to the death versus Grimm. Jaune had been certain that his strike had hit something vital. 'Mammalian' Grimm had roughly the same internal structure. He had landed a powerful stab to the 'core' of the Grimm. The core was tangentially the 'heart' of a Grimm. Jaune had struck close enough to that nebulous region to kill the Grimm.

Jaune barely managed to squawk out a "What?" before one of the enemy beasts crashed bodily into his back. The Grimm were likely very young, because the impact actually _helped_ Jaune to a small degree. Crocea Mors was pushed deeper into the core. The Grimm died with a scream.

The semi-Huntsman didn't really hear the scream as _he_ screamed from the force of the impact. He had been attuned to 'feeling' the status of his aura. Pyrrha, and the instructors at Sanctum, had drilled that he wouldn't always have a Scroll or arena screen to keep track of his Aura.

That blow had taken a huge chunk out of Jaune's Aura. Grimm evaporating when killed was a blessing, since this freed Crocea Mors. Jaune wasted no time and spun in a desperate horizontal slash. He had expected to strike the beast's tusks, but they cleaved straight through the Grimm's neck. The head hit the deck with an audible _thud_.

"You owe me one!" Blake shouted as she retracted the 'ribbon' part of Gambol Shroud. Jaune did not respond with words. His stomach was lurching more than the ship. Jaune had truly put up a valiant effort against his greatest and most terrible foe.

It was not to last.

Jaune, overcome with motion sickness, vomited on the last remaining Grimm as he spun to face the creature. There was a part of Jaune that wanted the Grimm to kill him then and there. He had just thrown up in front of a pretty girl that wasn't related to him. He had managed to have a real connection with just one other woman like that; Pyrrha. Jaune had ruined that shot by becoming an international fugitive. Now, his motion sickness had torpedoed that.

At least the Grimm seemed stunned.

The opportunity in battle, gross as it was, couldn't be passed up. Somehow, the 'outburst' had stunned the monster. The layers of fat-like material surrounding the Grimm prevented the usual tactic of piercing the core in a single blow. So, Jaune attempted to stab the beast in the face. The sole surviving Grimm was evidently made of sterner stuff than his kin. The beast lowered his head quickly to turn Crocea Mors aside with its tusks.

" _Hiyyyyyaaa!"_ Blake cried as she landed on top of the Grimm and drove her sheath-sword deep into the beast's skull. It died with a whimper. "Jaune! Are you okay?"

"Physically? Yes. Pride… eh?" Jaune responded half-heartedly.

Blake flashed a comforting smile. "Don't feel bad, I can't handle spicy food at all. My m..." She paused and looked wistfully at someone. Someone who was very far away. "Well, I was always teased for not being able to handle my hometown's cooking."

"Can't have a reaction as bad as I did," Jaune countered.

"One time, my cousin snuck some specter pepper sauce into some of my spaghetti sauce. I cried. I can't handle the spice at all."

"No big brother to avenge you?" Jaune asked as Blake led him back into the ship. The other two Huntsmen had been older, and thus ordered to say inside as a second line of defense. Thus, it was just Blake and Jaune on the deck.

"Only child," Blake revealed as she fished a towel from a random suitcase.

"Thanks," Jaune replied.

"But yes, only child. I don't have seven siblings to either prank me or avenge me," Blake answered with a smirk.

"Sometimes, the pranker and avenger are the same people," Jaune revealed.

Blake laughed. "I _have_ to hear that story."

"I'll tell you later. I could use a bath and for the world to stop moving..."

* * *

**Author's Note** : First, the good news. New update! And yes, those _were_ Walrus Grimm. I wish I could say that was planned, but the idea just came to me.

Now for the bad news...

* * *

**Hiatus Notice:**

I hate when writers do this, but I do believe you all shouldn't be left in the lurch. I'm putting all my RWBY stories on hiatus for the foreseeable future. There are several reasons for my departure.

First, I haven't been hugely thrilled with the direction of canon RWBY. Volume 4 and Volume 5 have been disappointing. V4, I gave a mulligan to. It was the first volume rendered in Maya and post-Monty. The volume… felt as though it was treading water. Volume 5 started with promise, but once it it hit the house… Everything just felt stalled. Instead of addressing the Pyrrha-shaped elephant in the room… we got BIIIIIIIIIIIIIRDS. Not to say there _weren't_ great moments in V4 and V5, but the sense of stalling and other issues outweighed them from me.

Second, there is a lot of toxicity in this fanbase. I'm not a member of the subreddit, but even I know about the bumblebee song incident. It dragged the VAs into the mess. Then there was the AMA and how Miles is hestiant to write Jaune scenes because of the chorus of "He's an SI!" unwarranted criticism. I've also never seen so much cucking/NTR in a fandom. 90% of it is trolling of Arkos. I have never seen any other pairing targeted in the same manner. Speaking of which, you may have noticed that "Extra Curricular" is gone. That's no coincidence. I tried writing NTR. Damn near threw up. Deleted everything I had worked on past the first chapter. If "Extra Curricular" comes back, it will probably be a mix of lemons and slice of life oneshots… and exclusively Arkos.

The final reason is somewhat connected to the previous. The last straw in my decision to step back from this fandom is my experiences on a fairly well known RWBY, primarily Jaune, centric server. I met some great people on that server and had some good times. However, I never felt that Arkos and Pyrrha was a welcomed topic by a vocal portion of the members. I can name several moments where Pyrrha and/or Arkos were painted in a negative light where even mentioning Pyrrha was unnecessary. I'm not going to dredge up more dirty laundry about those incidents in public. The final straw, however, was on Valentine's Day. There was a massive amount of meme-ing about Pyrrha being dead. A message to the two members who were responsible for **all of it** : I get it. Pyrrha's dead. There was also a good bit of spamming Pyrrha cucking Jaune art. For two people who are 'indifferent', their actions gave proof to that lie. But the real reason I left? It was blatant trolling and most of the mods were as indifferent as the agitators claimed to be. Granted with the state of flux due to a semi-vacuum of leadership that existed, I should not have been surprised.

Now for the tl;dr version of this, I'm stepping back. My Naruto fic and Chains of the Kindred fans will be happy to know I'm going to focus on those fandoms for a while. I'll be looking at whether or not I'm coming back to RWBY. Thanks to two new servers I'm apart of… it's looking like I will be back eventually. I'm not sure if my current fics will remain as they are. Some, such as Beacon: Academy and In Vino Veritas will most certainly remain unchanged. Sanctum Days is _likely_ to remain as is. Extra Curricular will be rebuilt from the ground up. Jaune Appetit… I'm debating.

I can promise you'll never see a color-swapped Weiss becoming some kind of thirsty mirror inverted… thing in any of them.

Sorry for being salty at the end, but I do hope I'll be energized by this hiatus and return. In the meantime, if you want to support some awesome Arkos writers, I suggest the following:

Smstanton of "4 Years at Beacon"  
Solora Goldsun of many fics  
soulfulbard of many fics  
WarrenDSherman: of "From Embers to Dust" and great Artwork. He is responsible for the cover to "In Vino Veritas"  
Harmonious Arkos Sloth: of "Product Placement" and "Blame Discord!" fame.

I am sorry to disappoint you all, but this is something I feel is warranted. I need to determine if I should continue as I was. Who knows? I may break down in a week thanks to my actual Discord friends and start writing and building up a backlog. However, I will probably not be back to RWBY fics until May at the earliest. As to when I start writing? I'm not sure. I will not be putting my fics up for adoption at this time. If you see any of my RWBY fics re-posted during this hiatus, they are not authorized and I will be reporting them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the "Team PNKE Hivemind" that exists over at Fanfiction.net. Dread Knight N7 has plans to post his own version of this story. If you see Dreadknight N7's version here or at Fanfic.net, there is no plagiarism or theft.


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